


Echo

by orphan_account



Series: Resilience [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, POV Marco Bott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of me and Jean Kirstein, and occasionally my sickness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for themes of cancer and depression

No one ever really expects to be diagnosed with cancer. It's not something that happens to _you_ , ya know? It's always the kid down the street or the distant family member you don't really know. It's never you or someone close to you right?

Wrong.

In the middle of my junior year my life came crashing down around my ears. It all happened fast and even now it feels surreal.

It started with being more tired than normal. I didn't think anything of it. I was running for the track team and juggling work and school of course I was gonna be tired. Then came the aching joints and nosebleeds. I dismissed them. I didn't have time to worry about them.

Things changed when I passed out in the hallway. I remember talking to Jean as we walked. I was getting dizzy and I think Jean could tell because he kept looking at me all concerned. The next thing I remember is Jean holding my head in his lap. I could feel his fingers trembling as he ran them through my hair.

"You're supposed to stay put Marco. They called an ambulance." He told me.

My first instinct was to argue but I didn't have it in me. And so I closed my eyes.

The rest of that day is a blur of tests and doctors. But what it boiled down to was a diagnosis.

Acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

The doctors tried to reassure me that this was a relatively common cancer with a high survival rate but the words just rattled around my skull. Not really sticking. I had room for one thought in my mind. And that one thought was simply:

I have cancer.

I, Marco Bodt, have fucking cancer.


	2. I'm Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm not okay / I'm not o-fucking-kay / I'm not okay - My Chemical Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took this down because I was unsatisfied with what I had originally put forth, here's an edited and hopefully much better chapter. (it's also much longer) Hope you guys enjoy it~

Let me back up a bit, so you can grasp the scope of everything. I passed out mid morning Wednesday. I was checked into a hospital by noon but I didn’t get any answer until the next day.

They asked me a whole slew of questions: Have I ever passed out before? (No.) Had I eaten breakfast that morning? (Yes.)

They probably would have stopped their questioning if I hadn’t my nose hadn’t decided to bleed right then. It was one of my more severe ones that took a good five minutes to stop despite my holding a wad of tissues to my nose.

“Do you get those often?” Mike, my nurse, asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t used to but lately I’ve been getting them a lot,” I shrugged it off. It was just a bloody nose, right?

“Anything else that’s been happening that you’ve not really had issues with?” He probed.

I hesitated. It was stupid really, they were just bruises but... “Well, I’ve been getting weird bruises from things that didn’t used to give me bruises and I’ve been feeling more tired than usual?” I muttered, looking down at my knees. My jean’s hid them, but I knew that they were black and Mike nodded, chewing his bottom lip. “I’m gonna go get another nurse and we’re gonna run some blood tests to see if that can get us some answers alright?”

I nodded as he left the room, my mother slid in.

She’d braided her hair out of her face which was pinched in a sour expression.

“Marco, you scared the bejesus out of me,” she scowled, but her eyes were soft. “I get a call from your school telling me that you passed out and that you were being taken to the hospital... Are you all right?” She looked up and down.

“I... I think so. Nothing’s broken at least.” I gave her a smile. “They just want to do some blood work.”

“I tried to check you out but they want you to stay the night, for observation you know.”

I nodded. I’d figured as much. “Will Dad bring my stuff?”

She kissed my temple and nodded. “Of course.”

At that moment my nurse returned with a friend. “All right Marco. We just want to take a few blood samples for the lab.”

Wordlessly I held out my left arm.

Mike and his buddy quickly took my blood while I watched, oddly fascinated.

“Why are you taking his blood?” Ma asked, hovering anxiously off to the side.

“We’re just gonna run a few tests to rule out a few things,” the other nurse, whose badge identified them as Nanaba.

She nodded along, and Nanaba and Mike cleaned up their mess and walked back out, chatting idly.

Now all I could do was wait.

I waited for several hours, doing homework that I should have done last night.

Eventually I grew bored and pulled out my phone to text.

**To: Jean**

**Hey.**

Almost as soon as I locked my screen my phone buzzed.

**From: Jean**

**How are you?**

Proper grammar? Jean must have been worried. I bit my lip as I type out a reply.

**To: Jean**

**I’m fine. They’re keeping me overnight just in case and to run a few tests.**

I hit send with a sigh. This hospital bed was lumpy and uncomfortable. I missed my own bed and something about the antiseptic smell of the hospital made my skin crawl.

Ma was talking with the nurses outside and I could see the pinched look on her face as cost came up. We weren’t poor- not really- we had what we needed and got by. But I could tell by the look on her face that this was more than we could afford. A knot of guilt started to twist my stomach.

I was distracted once more by the buzz of my phone in my hand.

**From: Jean**

**that’s good. you had me worried**

I’ll admit that I was stupidly pleased with the fact that he was worried about me. I had been trying to ignore the budding feelings I’d been feeling for my best friend, but that text destroyed any headway I’d been making.

**To: Jean**

**Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.**

**From: Jean**

**dude. you fucking passed out i’m just glad ur okay**

I laughed a bit at that and we continued texting. I kept Jean from his homework, and he kept me from my worries. At some point in our late night texting, I fell asleep on Jean.

* * *

 

The next day was just as monotonous as the previous, waiting and texting to pass the time. It was around one in the afternoon before anything really happened. Mike returned with two somber companions. One was a short woman with chin length red hair and kind features. The other was a tall blond man, with his hair slicked to one side and- was that a bolo tie?

The woman sat down in a chair, crossing her ankles. The man looked down at his clipboard and then back up at me. He gave me a slight smile before turning to my mom. “Ms. Bodt, would you please accompany me to the hall. I’d like to speak with you privately before I speak with Marco.”

My stomach twisted and my mother nodded, following the doctor out into the hall.

“Hello Marco,” The red-headed woman stood again. “I’m Petra Ral.”

“Marco Bodt,” I replied, “but you already knew that,” I added in afterthought.

She laughed, “I did. How are you doing Marco?”

“I’m okay,” I said. Truth be told all I wanted was to go home.

Outside my door there was a muffled sob and I looked up at  my closed door, brows furrowed.

“That’s good to hear,” Petra brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ears.

“So... When am I gonna be allowed to go home?”

Petra seemed to stiffen, “Oh I don’t know, that’s for you and Erwin to hash out.”

“Erwin?”

“The doctor out talking with your mom. He’s the one with your personal file right now.”

The door creaked opened.

“Speak of the devil,” Petra smiled, looking up at the blond.

“You’re need out here,” He grimaced slightly and Petra shook her head. “I’ll be back in a moment Marco.”

With each passing moment I was growing more and more confused. Why couldn’t I just go home?

Dr. Erwin slid into my room as Petra walked out, following the sound of sniffles and crying.

“Alright Marco. I’m Doctor Smith. You know why you’re here. Or at least why you were admitted. You passed out for no apparent cause.”

“...Yes?”

“Well, there was a cause. And unfortunately this means you’re going to be staying here for a bit longer.”

“What was the cause?” I asked. Just get on with it and tell me.

“I’m sorry to have to tell this to you Marco, but you have cancer. Specifically, acute lymphoblastic leukemia.”

I stopped listening at cancer. My stomach dropped and I chewed my lip, taking a few deep breaths. Erwin was silent as I tried to wrap my head around what I’d just been told.

“Cancer?” I repeated tremulously. This had to be some sort of sick joke, but when I looked into Erwin’s blue eyes I knew it wasn’t.

“Yes. It’s a relatively common cancer. There’s a high remission rate.”

Is that meant to comfort me? Here you go son, you’ve got cancer, but hey it’s not too bad, it’s pretty common.

Erwin looked me over and stood. “Your oncologist will be by later to talk specifics with you.”

I nodded slowly.

 

I don’t know how long it took for me to notice Petra in my room, but when I did she gave me a gentle smile.

“It’s okay to be scared.” She said softly. “It’s normal.”

That when I figured out what she was. She was a therapist, probably going along whenever anyone had to deliver devastating news to comfort and console after the news had been given.

“Pease, I just need a moment to think.” I murmured.

She nodded, standing and smoothing her pants. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to call,” she set her card down on my bedside table.

My mom burst into my room, her cheeks blotchy and tear streaked.

“Marco are you okay?” She asked, crouching beside me.

“I’m fine.” I was most certainly not fine. “I just need a minute to myself. Go tell dad.”

It was rude and selfish of me to push her away, but I couldn’t deal with her clinging to me, making sure I was okay when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and stare at the walls.

She pulled away. “Okay,”

“I’m sorry ma, I just... I really need a moment to think. Please.”

“It’s okay honey. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

I closed my eyes, “Thanks.”

She kissed my forehead and quietly left the room.

A soft sigh of relief formed on my lips and I opened my eyes. Alone at last.

I grabbed my phone from where it had been set, forgotten, on my bedside table. I shoved my headphones in my ears, found my My Chemical Romance playlist, hit shuffle and closed my eyes.

I turned the music up as loud as it would go. Just drown it out.The familiar guitar riff of “I’m Not Okay” played as I squeezed my eyes shut. Trying to focus on Gerard’s voice. It was better than focusing on my own pain. I was doing okay until the last chorus: _I'm not okay / I'm not okay / Well, I'm not okay / I'm not o-fucking-kay / I'm not okay / I'm not okay._

I wasn’t okay. I had fucking cancer.  

As that information sunk in, and a new song started, I did the only thing I could think of. I called Jean. Jean wasn’t really one for comfort, but I knew he’d want to know and I couldn’t keep this in any longer. I had to talk to someone.

The phone rang a few times and I chewed on my knuckle, waiting for Jean to answer his phone. When I heard the line connect a soft breath of relief slipped past my lips. I didn’t even wait for him to say anything. I just launched right into it. Because if I didn’t say it right then, I didn’t know if I would be able to.

“Jean,” My voice cracked and I winced. “I... I have cancer.”

His sharp intake of breath said more than words really could. “Cancer?” He repeated, voice strained.

“Yeah,” my throat was tight. Up until this point, I had yet to cry. But something about telling Jean made it real. It made it concrete. It was really happening to me.

“Jean. I’m-” my breathing hitched.

“...Marco.”

And then I was crying. The phone was still up to my ear, and I could dimly hear Jean speaking to me. Trying to comfort me. I couldn’t understand a word he said. Just the tone. His own voice was choked up, but he kept talking to me until I calmed enough to form words.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do. They’re already talking treatment with my doctor and I... I’m so scared Jean.”

“It’s okay Marco. I’d be scared too.” He spoke softly. He paused for a moment, “I’ll come see you tomorrow. Where are you at?”

“Trost Hospital,” I murmured, “Room 216.”

There was silence for a moment or two.

“Hey Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.” His voice wavered.

“Thanks, Jean.” There was a tentative knock at my door, and I hurriedly wiped away my tears.

“Yeah?” I called, my voice rasping in my throat.

My mom poked her head inside. “Your oncologist wants to talk with you.”

I nodded, “Two minutes,” she smiled sadly and slid back out. “I guess I’ve got to go now... Sorry.”

“S’okay. Good night Marco. I’ll see you later,”

“Good night Jean,” I said softly, listening for a moment to his breathing before reluctantly ending the call.

As I put my phone down in my lap the hospital room seemed much more sinister than it had before.

The door swung in again and my mom stepped in. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” I was most definitely not ready.

“Finally,” A loud voice came from behind my mother. The oncologist pushed her way past my mom, bounding into the room.

“Marco!” She beamed, sitting down in the roll-y chair near the table and using it to scoot across the room to my bedside.

Despite myself, I laughed. Even if her chipper tone grated on my frayed nerves, I could appreciate her bedside manner.

“My name Is Hanji Zoe, and I’m gonna be working your case for your stay here at Trost,” Her glasses slipped down her nose and she shoved them up impatiently. “I wanted to talk to you, one on one, about your cancer and treatment.” She looked up pointedly at my mom and dad who were standing by the door. Mom was wringing her hands and dad had his hands on her shoulders. Mom was watching me like a hawk, clearly reluctant to leave me alone. But dad nodded and lead mom out of the room, leaving me and Hanji alone in my room.

“Now. First things first. I don’t care what you call me. I can be Dr. Hanji or just plain Hanji, but none of this Dr. Zoe business,” She smiled at me.

“I think I can handle that,” I agreed, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Good. Now onto business. I don’t know what you know about cancer or what the other doctors have told you, but I’m going to give you all the facts.”

For lack of anything to say, I nodded.

“You have what’s known as acute lymphoblastic leukemia. It’s a relatively common cancer, with good survival rates. What this type of cancer does is attack your white blood cells, which fight off infection, and prevents your body from making enough normal blood cells. That’s why you felt tired and bled a lot.”

I’d known that. I googled it as soon as the doctors told me what I had.

“Do you have any questions thus far?” Hanji asked.

I paused considering or a moment. “I uh... I don’t know. I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

Hanji smiled, patting my hand from her perch on the chair. “That’s okay. Whenever you have questions, I’ll answer them. For now I’ll just give you all the general details.”

“Actually. I do have a question... What are my limitations gonna be? Am I gonna be trapped here in this hospital room or what?”

Hanji considered the question, chewing her lip and pushing her glasses up as she thought. “It depends on how you take your first round of chemo. After we see how that goes we can determine if you can be an outpatient or not. If you can, you’ll just have to come in for treatments and tests. That’s what I’m hoping for. I want you in here as little as possible. With your cancer, most patients do fine with outpatient meetings.”

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I looked down at my hands. “When do I start chemo?”

“Tomorrow. It’s important to get you started on chemo as fast as we can, so that we can start knocking down the number of cancer cells in your body.”

Chewing thoughtfully on my cheek, I nodded. Somehow words kept failing me. I wasn’t sure what there was even to say. “Alright,” I murmured.

We talked about what type of drugs I would be taking, but none of them really stuck. When Hanji had answered all my questions and told me everything that she thought I needed to know off the top of her head, she rolled back out.

Only five minutes after she had rolled out of my hospital room there was the sound of someone squawking her name and a short grumpy looking nurse returned the roll-y chair to my room.

Later I learned that that short grumpy looking nurse was named Levi.

* * *

 

The next morning I started chemo. And while I wasn’t sure what to expect, I also had expectations. And as Levi hooked me up to the IVs and everything, he briefly told me what my possible side effects could be and at that moment I threw everything I thought I knew out the window.

Something I didn’t expect was how fast the drugs would start effecting me. It only took an hour or so before I felt awful. It wasn’t nausea yet, just a general feeling of yuck.

My mom, bless her heart, was driving me nuts with her constant fussing. All in all she was handling my diagnosis spectacularly, as far as I was aware she’d only broken down once. I knew that she just wanted to do something. But there was nothing she could do. There was nothing any of us could do.

My father was calmer than I thought he’d be. Though, the more I thought about it the more I realized that they probably were hiding everything from me. Right now, he was talking with Erd and Gunter at the nurses station, just outside my door. There was a small commotion in the hall as Hanji skated past on a stolen roll-y chair and Levi chased after, calling obscenities.

I bit back a few chuckles, looking down the my phone. I didn’t really have any messages to go through. The only person I really wanted to talk to was Jean and he was in the middle of class. Not that that usually stopped him from texting. But it stopped me. I didn’t want to distract him during class.

A soft knock on my door caused both my head and my mom’s to turn up.

“Jean?”

Jean scuffed his shoes on the laminated tiles of the hospital floor, looking down at his feet.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Mom asked, ever the parent.

“I... yeah.” He admitted, readjusting the red beanie on his head as he glanced up at me and then at my mom. “I skivved. But I told my mom where I was going so...” He shrugged.

Mom pursed her lips, clearly not sold on the idea. But when she looked at me I gave her a small hopeful smile. Jean had been my best friend since we were little. I wanted to see him.

She nodded once and stood up. “Don’t stay too long Jean, your mom will have my head,” she patted Jean’s shoulder as she passed him.

As she closed the door behind her, Jean moved forward.

Now that I was alone in the room with Jean I didn’t know what to say. What could I even say. My throat tightened. I opened my mouth to say something but all that came out was a soft sigh. “Jean...”

Jean didn’t say anything either. He just watched me for a moment before sitting down in the chair my mom had vacated.

“Jean, are you okay?”

Jean’s features twisted and he gave a hollow laugh, “Of course. You’ve just been diagnosed with cancer, and you still ask if _I’m_ okay,”

“I worry about you,” I mumbled in half-hearted defense.

“I’m fine,” there was something in his eyes that made me question his truthfulness but I didn’t know how to approach the subject. So I let it drop as he spoke again. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I... I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands. “I’m scared and I don’t really know what’s going on, but I’m not... bad.”

Jean nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the bed and taking my hand. His long fingers twined with mine and I flushed slightly.

Jean’s cheeks, paler than mine, were flaming and I smiled slightly.

Jean stayed with my for as long as he could that day, only leaving when I quietly asked him to. He’d looked slightly hurt and I’d hurriedly launched into an explanation of how I was tired and wasn’t feeling very well. “Well, if you’d just said that.” He replied, pulling me into a warm hug before grabbing his bag and leaving.

I hadn’t been lying when I had said I wasn’t feeling well. But the real reason I made him leave was because I was having an epiphany and not necessarily one I wanted. Sitting there holding hands with Jean, telling him how scared I was and how he’d comforted me with shitty jokes and puns made me realize that I was head over heals in love with Jean Kirschstein and I’d needed a moment to digest that sudden realization.

About an hour after Jean left, the chemo began to take it’s toll on me. I started vomiting and couldn’t stop. Hanji told me that it was just my body trying to reject what it thought was poison. But that wasn’t much of a consolidation to me. They started me on anti-nausea medication but it wasn’t taking effect quickly enough for my tastes.

Finally, after an hour of puking, the medication kicked in and I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Jean visited every day that week, providing comfort, companionship and tutoring. I didn’t really need the tutoring, no reasonable teacher would fail me for having cancer, but I took it anyway. I didn’t want to get behind in class, so when ever I felt up to it, I worked.

That wasn’t as often as you’d think.

As the chemo progressed I got more and more weak, tired and sick. Very rarely could I even think about rational equations, let alone solve them.

But Jean was always there. Every day, without fail.

Today was no different.

Jean walked into my room, threw his backpack on the ground and took his usual seat. I rolled over to face him, cracking an eye and reaching out for his hand. He took mine, running his thumb across my knuckles.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked.

“Ughhh,” I groaned. Even forming words felt like too much effort today.

Jean sighed, moving his free hand to run his fingers through my hair. As we sat there, Jean told me about his day. About how he nearly punched Eren Jaeger in the face and about the shit ton of homework he had to do and all I could do was nod weakly along.

He smiled at me and stood. “I should go. Mom wants me home for dinner,” he grumbled. squeezing my hand before walking out the door.

 

About an hour later I was dozing to the sound of Fall Out Boy when someone knocked at my door and walked in. Blearily, I blinked up at the tall boy walking into my room.

Jean?

“I, uh, left my jacket.” Jean said, pointing at the chair where his hoodie was still draped.

“Come on in,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks warm.

“You okay?”

“The chemo’s makin’ me sick,” I got out, curling up and grimacing as a new wave of nausea swamped my senses.

“Do you need anything?” He looked concerned and very helpless in that moment.

Despite all of my common sense screaming don’t do it, I wordlessly raised my arms for a hug. Once he was in my grasp I tucked my nose in the crook of his neck, closing my eyes.

Even when I was trying to forcibly eject my innards from my mouth, I still had the presence of mind to realise that I shouldn’t be doing this. I tugged him down onto the hospital bed with me and curled into his lap. He gave a soft noise of surprise, but he let me. He just shifted a bit so neither of us would fall and began to run his hands through my hair. It was surprisingly comfortable, my head in his lap. The combination of the anti-nausea medicine kicking in, his fingers running through my hair, and his soft humming had me asleep in minutes.

 

I woke up to the sound of Levi grumbling at my bedside about how having a second body in the bed with me made his job ten times harder.

“Sorry,” I forced out, head spinning as I shifted. God I felt like shit.

“You look awful, Bodt.” Levi said, showing me a cup of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated. If you don’t drink something we’ll have to start an I.V. drip.”

My stomach churned as I slowly sat up. Jean shifted behind me and rubbed a hand between my shoulderblades as I gagged. There wasn’t anything in my stomach for it to force back up, but it was certainly trying.

Levi’s lip curled and he held out the water. “Drink.”

I grabbed the cup, grimacing as I brought it to my lips. The water tasted awful but I drank it anyway, knowing that in the long run it would actually help me, even if right now it made me just wanna puke it right back up.

Satisfied, Levi took the empty cup. “I’m gonna keep refilling this and leaving it on your table. Whenever I come back in here for rounds I expect it to be empty.”

I nodded slowly, putting my head back down with a groan as Levi went back to checking my IV.  

As I glanced around my room, I realised that my parents were surprisingly absent from my hospital bedroom. I looked up at Jean in confusion and somehow he understood what I was unable to articulate.

“My mom stopped by with Dad and they’re out to dinner, mom didn’t want your mom to run herself ragged,”

I nodded slowly, my head spinning. That was good. Mom needed to breathe. I needed to breathe without my mom hovering over me.

I put my head back down on Jean’s sturdy chest, closing my eyes tightly. Jean’s hand moved automatically to smooth down my back, tracing warm patterns there and I gave a hum of approval.

I know that we were doing isn’t something that people usually do with their best friend, but... Jean and I had been best friends since we were little kids. And I really should have stopped Jean because I wanted more than just friends, but Jean would have given me a kicked puppy look, so I let it carry on. I just wanted him to be happy, my own happiness be damned. If he wanted to date someone who wasn’t me... well. As long as he was happy right?

Jean was humming in my ear again and I sighed softly. “I love you.”

Wait what. That wasn’t supposed to come out of my lips. What sort of drugs were they giving me?

Jean’s soft chuckle snapped me out of my panic. “Love you too,”

He didn’t add ‘bro’ or ‘no homo’ at the end like so many others would have and I looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed and he looked deep in thought.

“Really?” Please just say you love me more than a friend should.

“C-course Marco. You’re my... best friend. Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Just ‘friend’. I bit back disappointment. Of course. I should have known better than to think that Jean love me back.

I smiled sadly at him and buried my head in his chest once more. This was dumb. I was dumb. He can’t read your mind Marco. He’s never gonna know unless you tell him. Shut up logic. Maybe I don’t want to tell him because... because I’m scared. That’s all that’s holding me back really. Fear. I know Jean won’t mind that I’m not straight. He confided in me that he pansexual. It was fear that telling him could destroy our friendship. A friendship that I’d never had to doubt.

For the second time that week I had an epiphany. Why not? You’ve got cancer? May as well tell him. You’re sick and could be dying what have you got to lose?

I opened my mouth slowly. “Jean. I- I have something to tell you.”

I could feel Jean’s intake of breath, and the way his head tilted down to look at me. I kept my eyes on the wall in front of me, head bowed as I spoke. That was if this went to shit, I didn’t have to see Jean’s face.

“Just, I’m sorry if this makes things awkward for you but... I love you. More than a friend. More like... I kinda wanna be able to say that you’re my boyfriend...” I trailed off, wincing at my poor word choice.

Jean’s hand on my back froze and I sucked in a nervous breath.

We didn’t speak for a very long time. Or it felt like a really long time even if it was only a few minutes.

“Marco...” He began softly, slowly.

My heart was in my throat.

“I...”

Here it comes. The admission that he doesn’t feel the same way and that I fucked up.

“I feel the same.”

Wait what?

I looked up at him to see if he was yanking my leg.

His face was dead serious and flushed. A smile formed on my lips, relief coursing through me.

“Really?”

“Really really,” Jean’s smile tugged at his lips. “I was plucking up the courage to tell you but you beat me to the punch this time.” His cheeks were still pink and he looked away sheepishly.

“So do you think we could give it a go? The whole dating my best friend thing?” I whispered, almost scared of what he was gonna say.

“I think it’s worth a shot.” Jean said, looking at me then with a grin on his lips.

I smiled and pulled him forward, pressing my forehead against his. We sat there for a few moments, hugging each other tightly and I was almost able to ignore the nausea.

Almost.

But not quite.

“Jean. I’m gonna hurl and if you don’t move I’m gonna hurl on you,” I grunted out, holding my stomach and clamping my jaw.

Jean moved out of the way, pushing a bin into my hand. Thank god.

I hunched over the pan, tired aching muscles protesting at the thought of vomiting again. Jean’s hand was on my back again, smoothing over stiff muscles. The only thing I had left to puke up was water and bile but that didn’t stop my body from trying.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, setting the pan on the bedside table and setting my head on my knees.

Jean grunted out an it’s okay, and pulled me back into his chest.

That was when I realized just how long the road I was headed down really was.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for this fandom so let me know what you think and I'll be updating as soon as I can. There will be a companion piece from Jean's POV too


End file.
